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>> Saturday, July 29, 2017

I need help. I’m stuck. I survived three years of my
husband’s cancers and two years of grief over his death. Where do I go now? I
desire to be a positive influence in this world.

How do I do that?

I reflect on my relationships. I am blessed to have a
village. My children go out of their way to care for me. Close friends would
come to my aid if I asked. I have enough money to take care of my needs…and
lately my wants.Twice I’ve walked where
Jesus walked. How very memorable that was. I live my days thanking God for His
presence, for His protection, for His outpouring of love. I sleep soundly at
night.

So is that enough? Not for me. I want to make a difference.
And so I’m back to how. Each time I ask myself that question; the answer in my
head is my writing.

That’s where I’m stuck.

Right now I have a blog I’d like to write. Yet instead here
I sit on the patio. Thoughts collide. I’ve had no training. Would my words
really help someone? My life is such an example of overcoming obstacles, if I
write it is it bragging?

So instead of writing, I eat. My religious upbringing told
me drugs, smoking, drinking and gambling were all sins, but overeating was
okay. I didn’t buy it then and I don’t now. Overeating does damage to my body.
But it’s my comfort. I enjoy it.

That brings me back to being stuck.

And so I think of blogging this…being totally vulnerable to
you. But see, if I let you read this, then you will feel obligated to tell me
wonderful things about me so I’ll feel better. That’s not what this is about. This
is a sincere longing deep within me to make a difference in another person’s
life. I can name the ones who did that for me. They opened my mind and poured
in a new way of thinking.

No, I’m not depressed. No, I’m not lonely. No, I’m not
asking for advice. I’m trying to empty myself on paper in hopes of uncovering
the answer that’s buried deep within me. And yes, I’ve prayed about it
repeatedly. And yes, I’ve asked for God’s guidance repeatedly. Today’s guidance
was to put my thoughts on paper so I could see them.

So here we are. Am I afraid of failure? What exactly would
that look like to me? No one buys my book? Is it pride holding me back? If I
can’t be really good then why try?

Right now I want to go eat something.

Do I believe God gave me this talent? If so, then by not
writing am I throwing it back in His face? I have a sign on my desk that says:

Here am I

Write through me

How can He if I avoid sitting down to write?

See, I’m stuck.

I copied this page from the book Savor by Shauna Niequist and have it on the front of my
refrigerator.

“Every once in a while, when I
write, I feel that feeling of a thousand slender threads coming together,
strands of who I’ve been and who I’m becoming, the long moments at the computer
and the tiny bits of courage, the middle of the night prayers and the exact way
God made me, not wrong or right, just me.